


A Shared Understanding

by JantoJones



Series: Stand-alone  (The 1st 100) [50]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 03:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6547912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illya and mark have an understanding of each other's childhoods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Shared Understanding

Illya Kuryakin was woken from his own fitful slumber by the distressed sobs of his temporary partner. In the bright white moonlight, which flooded their hotel room, he could clearly see that Mark Slate was in the grip of a nightmare. The Russian was no stranger to nightmares himself, and had the feeling that Mark's were born of the same source as his own; more or less anyway. This was verified when the Brit suddenly called out for his Daddy.

Sitting up, Illya called over to Mark in an attempt to wake him. It would have been easier to shake him awake, but only an idiot would do that to a section 2 agent. Especially one experiencing a heightened sense of anxiety.

"Mark!" he called for a second time.

Slate's eyes opened and he stared at Illya with confusion. After a couple of seconds, he realised what had happened.

"Sorry if I woke you, mate. I should have warned you I often have nightmares."

"No apology is needed," Illya assured him. "It could easily have been the other way around. Your nightmare woke me from the one I was having. You do not need to answer, but were you dreaming of when you were young, during the war?"

"Yes," Slate admitted, also sitting up. "It's one have had hundreds of times. I assume you know how my father Dad died."

Given is position in U.N.C.L.E., Illya was privy to the personnel files. As such, he was aware that Mark had lost his father during an air raid in the London Blitz.

"I was only six, but the sight of my Dad's lifeless body has never left me," Mark told him. "I could never understand how he had survived so many battles, only to be killed while on leave. I've talked it over with the shrink, but I doubt the dreams will ever go away."

"Mine too are of the deaths of my family," Kuryakin confessed.

Mark was surprised. Not by the revelation, but by the fact Illya had volunteered the information. He had never been one for opening up about personal matters.

"My father died fighting, and my mother, grandmother and sisters were murdered by the Nazis," Illya continued. "It is not something an eight year old should witness. I dream about it at least twice a week. Each time, I think I can save them but, of course, I fail every time."

He wouldn't normally relate his painful past to anyone, other than Napoleon on occasion, but he had asked Mark outright, so it was only fair to reciprocate. In a strange way, it was nice to be talking to someone who could understand some of what he'd lived through. Solo had seen war, but not until he was older. While he tried to understand Illya's childhood, his own had been happy and safe, so he could never truly know what the Russian had endured. With Mark, Illya had someone who knew what it was to have a dangerous and disrupted childhood.

"Why were you not evacuated with the other children?" he asked the Brit.

"Mum was a bit clingy," Mark replied. "Especially after we lost Dad. I remember asking why I couldn't go with my friends, and Mum told me it wasn't safe in the country. I don't know what she thought was out there."

"I could understand if it was Russia," Illya told him with a smile. "We have wolves and bears. The biggest things you have in England are cows. Although, they can turn on you when riled."

"You're right there," Slate chuckled. "But my mother never left city. The most dangerous animal there was a flea ridden mongrel."

The agents fell into a companionable silence for a couple of minutes; each of them thinking over what the other had revealed.

"We had better get back to sleep," Mark said eventually. "We have that courier to intercept early in the morning."

"You are correct," Illya agreed. "Thank you for telling me the reason for your nightmares. At least I shall know what they are should we share a room again."

"No problem, Guv," the Londoner answered. "Thank you for the same. You can rest assured, it will stay between us."

Illya smiled. "Goodnight Mark."

"'Night Illya."


End file.
